December.

It was noon, but the sky remained gray. A biting north wind howled through the mountains and fields, carrying swirling snowflakes. Many trees in the mountains had been crushed by the heavy snow.

In this snowstorm, which was already too severe to venture out in, there were still figures moving on the open country near an unknown mountain range. One or two at first, then gradually increasing to hundreds, thousands as the view zoomed in.

The figures seemed half-melted by the howling snowstorm, their blurry blacks and clear whites buffeted by the wind and snow. In the distance, only the sound of the wind could be heard. Only up close could you see the emaciated, freezing figures wielding knives, engaged in a frenzied slaughter, hear their shouts amidst the roaring storm.

Blood splattered, an insignificant decoration in this vast snowstorm, gradually dissolving and being buried beneath the white expanse after landing.

A desperate battlefield in the storm.

Even the center of the battlefield, where generals were stationed, was blurred by the heavy snow. On the edges of the battlefield, figures scattered in different directions. Some of these half-black, half-white figures encountered each other and resumed fighting. Lacking strength in the storm, their encounters were nevertheless marked by hysterical violence. Some fell, stained crimson, while others stumbled away. Still others scavenged for items among the corpses, looking around in terror amidst the wind and snow.

Near the mountain range on the edge of the battlefield, a fierce battle had just taken place in a desolate village. Several soldiers gathered in the pools of blood, searching the bodies of fallen enemies, taking a brief respite by the crumbling earthen walls. Before their wounds could be dressed, the fighting erupted once more.

Some charged out wielding their blades, while others grabbed their spoils and fled. Amidst the chaotic clash, a white figure, almost indistinguishable from the snow, emerged from behind the earthen wall, slowly creeping forward, rummaging through the pile of supplies the soldiers had just gathered. Mostly intact clothing and rusted weapons were all he found. Not finding any food, the white intruder disdainfully pocketed a few scraps of cloth and retreated back into the snowstorm.

The chaotic fighting continued. This not-so-tall figure in white clothes moved furtively through the wind and snow, pilfering items from the dead and stealing others' war trophies. He even ambushed a lone captain wearing leather armor, knocking him out with a club and snatching a small bag of dried food from his pocket. By the time he quietly returned to the mountains, his body had grown noticeably larger.

"I can't keep being so reckless."

He bundled the stolen food and rags into a pack, slung it over his shoulder, and glanced back towards the battlefield as he slipped into the woods.

Only the howling snowstorm met his gaze. It was impossible to see any traces of the fighting. Even the specks of blood, which had seeped into the snow, seemed as though they had never existed in the face of such a fierce winter's day.

The boy sighed.

He walked carefully through the woods in the storm, sweeping away his footprints in the snow with a tree branch he dragged behind him. He had anticipated encountering other deserters and having to fight, but this time he was lucky and didn't meet anyone else.

On the other side of the mountain, the figure with the pack found the skinny jujube-red horse he had tethered there earlier. He mounted it and headed east into the snowstorm.

The gloomy snow showed no signs of stopping. By dusk, he had ridden the horse into another desolate mountain. The mountain paths were rugged, and snow-laden branches formed a labyrinth. He led the horse deeper into the woods, weaving around obstacles. By the time they were through the woods, it was quite dark. Ahead lay only a dark mountainside, devoid of human presence. The boy drew his knife and slowed his pace.

"Clap, clap-clap."

He rhythmically tapped the blade against the trees on the snowy ground beside him. After a while, he heard someone calling out from the darkness, "Y-you're back..."

Rustling footsteps approached, and a figure ran towards him from the wind, snow, and darkness, stopping close by. The girl's face was blurred in the darkness, but her joyful smile was still visible. "Little Flower, and... Little Dragon..."

"You're wrong, it's called Bald Donkey," the boy corrected her, referring to the horse.

"A-are you alright..."

"...As if anything big could happen." The boy snorted softly, a step away from her. "I brought back food."

"Okay."

The girl nodded, looking him up and down in the dim light. She watched the boy lead the horse forward and followed closely behind.

The boy asked, "You didn't light a fire?"

"Y-you weren't here... I was too scared, afraid someone would see..."

"Who's going to see in this blizzard?"

"...Okay."

The girl took two slow steps, then two quick steps, following him through the snow. "How's the fighting going?"

"Only a lunatic would fight in weather like this."

"...Okay."

The two figures, one light, one dark, spoke sparsely as they walked up the snowy slope, inching forward. After dozens of steps, they could faintly see the small snow hut nestled in the angle of the mountain ahead.

The snow hut was built with branches and wood. Now covered with snow, it blended with the mountainside, almost becoming one with it. Only up close could one see the door in the snow. Not far behind the snow hut, under the mountain rocks, was a cleverly constructed chimney.

This was the house where Ning Ji and Qu Longjun were now living in seclusion.

In late September of that year, He Wen's willful actions had sparked the beginning of the Fair Party's split, plunging Jiangnan into war. By October, Jiangnan had entered the snowy winter, but the endless war had not stopped. Villages and cities were swept over by the raging firestorm of fighting and infighting, and the once-prosperous and flourishing land of Jiangnan had almost no peace.

Ning Ji and Qu Longjun, this young couple, had found a place in the desolate mountains to recuperate. After saying goodbye to the little monk in October, they were harassed by several waves of refugees and rogue soldiers, forcing them to retreat deeper into the mountains.

At this time, Ning Ji's hidden wounds from the chaos in Jiangning were gradually healing. Using the wilderness survival skills he had learned in the army, he built a hidden house in the mountains. In November, he even ambushed several scouts and stole a skinny jujube-red horse.

Most people were short of food and clothing these days, and the horses also lacked fodder. The jujube-red horse was pitifully thin, with sparse hair on its neck. Ning Ji nicknamed it "Bald Donkey," but Qu Longjun felt sorry for it and privately called it "Little Flower." She helped Ning Ji build a small shed next to the mountain wall to house it and took care of it every day.

And so, the winter snows of Jiangnan fell, sometimes gently, sometimes heavily. The two built a small haven in these mountains, reinforcing their shelter, feeding the horse, drying firewood, and struggling to make a fire and cook. Ning Ji kept watch around the perimeter, occasionally ambushing enemy scouts and bandits. After several such small incidents, in the blink of an eye, it was already December 23rd of that year.

Having followed a group of scouts and acquired supplies after a chaotic battle the previous day, he returned to the mountains, now in complete darkness. In the howling snowstorm, the two settled "Bald Donkey" in the shed, then lit a fire in the stove inside their room. As the light flickered, the girl's disheveled hair and ashen lips revealed her exhaustion.

Jiangnan had become a wasteland, and this winter was unusually cold. The Fair Party's forces were tearing each other apart outside. Cannibalism among the common people and the army was no longer uncommon. Even hidden away in the mountains, the two had encountered several fleeing outsiders, and the encounters had not gone well.

After the boy went out the day before, following the trail of the army, Qu Longjun had not dared to light a fire. She had probably only eaten a little raw food during the day, so her condition was naturally poor. But seeing Ning Ji return, a smile appeared in her eyes, and her delicate, oval face seemed to relax.

Ning Ji didn't say much. After the fire was lit, he placed a pot of water on the stove to boil. Then, he reached out and touched the girl's forehead. The girl, who was kneeling by the bed adding firewood to the stove, froze. After his hand released, she threw in the firewood. Then, he grabbed her hand to take her pulse. She whispered, "I'm okay."

"Whether you're okay isn't up to you."

"...Okay."

Qu Longjun was two years older than Ning Ji, but Ning Ji had the status of "benefactor" and knew martial arts. When he wore a cold face, the girl never had any temper. Of course, Ning Ji didn't show off his heroic spirit often. After a moment, he released her hand without saying anything about the diagnosis. Qu Longjun looked at him, buried her head to boil the water, and Ning Ji sorted the things he had stolen from outside. In the third month of their cohabitation, even this silence seemed quite natural.

But in fact, the two were in a complex and delicate stage of their relationship, experiencing things that were foreign to them.

From the moment they reunited in Jiangning, they had felt very close to each other. In a chaotic world, "meeting an old friend in a foreign land" filled anyone's heart with joy.

They had known each other in the Southwest. But they had different feelings about that experience.

For Qu Longjun, she didn't know that the boy had been watching her for some time, nor did she know why he had saved her after killing Wen Shoubin. In her eyes, the "little benefactor" from the China Army was strong, handsome, but also a bit arrogant. She often found him difficult to approach, and even – she didn't know why – he seemed to have called her "little bitch" several times.

She couldn't understand why he used such an insulting term to call her, and why he would save her after calling her that. For her, it had always been a mystery.

In the small courtyard in the Southwest, the boy's decisiveness and coldness when killing had left an indelible impression on her. If such a person truly had an opinion of her, killing her off would not be difficult to imagine.

After that incident, she was no longer under Wen Shoubin's control. Then, because of her father's revenge, she left the China Army, alone and helpless, as if starting over from scratch. If she had to name people who had made a deep impression on her, it would be Aunt Gu from the China Army and this "little benefactor." After the Fair Party revealed its ferocious face in September, she heard the name of this "little benefactor" and even reunited with him, and her heart suddenly felt like it had found a home.

But was this feeling real? Was it just her wishful thinking? That cold face in the Southwest, that "little bitch" nickname, how did he view her? These things were hard to think about in detail.

As for Ning Ji, reuniting with the little bitch was the most unimaginable thing on this trip away from home. He didn't know if this feeling was warm or joyful. As a straight man, especially a steel man who had been hurt by a bitch not long ago in the Southwest, he didn't want to think too much about the matter of feeling warm towards a certain woman, let alone say it out loud.

Just like his reaction after hearing that the little bitch had left alone in Zhang Village, she was going to die, but he couldn't do anything about it. What could he say? That he didn't want her to die? He had saved her out of simple humanitarianism, a moment of kindness. She had learned "women can hold up half the sky" and decided to be independent and self-reliant. If he was too worried, what would that make him?

"He Wen loves Gao Chang" was already so embarrassing, let alone "Long Aotian is worried about the little bitch."

After leaving the Southwest, he hadn't thought too much about why he had such a strong obsession with making Long Aotian's reputation great. The evaluation of Zhang Village was certainly one aspect, but in fact, after the name Long Aotian was tarnished with the slander of "five-foot lustful demon," he could have completely changed his name to something like "Invincible East" or "Defeated West" and started over.

He left the Southwest to chase Yu Xiaoer, traveling three thousand miles, flaunting his name. The moment the little bitch found him, he suddenly felt relieved.

These words were not easy to say, and even he himself had not realized it. At the beginning of their reunion, all they could talk about were the series of experiences after leaving the Southwest. Soon after, there were fewer and fewer things they could communicate about.

Ning Ji couldn's discuss his background, family situation, or many specific things in the China Army with her; on the other hand, Qu Longjun's father had died at the hands of the China Army, and she was subsequently sold as a "thin horse" to be taken to the Southwest to sabotage. These were not topics suitable for open discussion. Not wanting to mention the past, there wasn't much for a fifteen-year-old boy and a sixteen-year-old girl to talk about.

In the first month of their cohabitation, Ning Ji was injured, and Qu Longjun took care of the little benefactor, as she should. Their cohabitation after their reunion was not too strange.

When Little Bald Donkey came, their hands were holding each other, both seeming quite natural.

After that, the war broke out, and the people and bandits fled. The two entered the mountains and built a small shed. Occasionally, while working, they would naturally have more conversations. Once they were idle, Ning Ji didn't know what to say. He was very proud, with a calm expression like the young doctor in the Southwest. Qu Longjun only thought that he was naturally plain. She would occasionally say a few words to him, but otherwise, she was restrained. After Ning Ji snatched back the "Little Bald Donkey," they talked more about the jujube-red horse. Qu Longjun took care of the little pet carefully, and Ning Ji went out to grab a few batches of fodder because of it. Occasionally, he would scold the little "Bald Donkey" disdainfully, and Qu Longjun would cutely correct him.

The chaotic world continued, and the surrounding world was appalling. The senseless wars and infighting, and the cannibalism among the refugees had already appeared. In this environment, it seemed unquestionable that those who knew each other and had goodwill towards each other should rely on each other. This was the part of their reliance on each other in the mountains that didn't need to be said.

However, when they calmed down, they would inevitably think, after all, they were just teenagers, and such a gathering seemed unnecessary to say now, but what would happen next?

These thoughts were faint, sometimes appearing and sometimes disappearing, just like many people secretly felt at a certain age. Because of the interaction with a certain person, warmth, goodwill, ambiguity, heartbeat, anxiety... These thoughts would float up and down vaguely, sometimes like the interwoven branches and shadows on the walls of a wooden house, sometimes like tides and fireworks. Many years later, they would become the most beautiful memories in their hearts, which people would occasionally mention or never tell anyone, but at this moment, they supported their quiet and uneasy interaction.

The small shed, hastily built in October, was not spacious. A stove, and two narrow beds on either side, were almost all the "furniture" in the entire room. The beds were also temporary, made of split wood with leaves, dry grass, and some spliced pieces of cloth. The stove provided some warmth to the small beds. To avoid being suffocated by the smoke at night, there was a special chimney next to the stove, plastered with mud, which was the most carefully designed part of the room.

In the quiet silence, Qu Longjun boiled hot water and wrung out a small piece of coarse cloth to wipe Ning Ji's face. Ning Ji had already sorted out today's loot: some scattered food, what looked like usable blades and a heart mirror, pieces of cloth, and even a small, exquisitely embroidered bellyband – Ning Ji had snatched it from a soldier, and where the soldier had gotten it was something he couldn't think too much about.

Taking the coarse cloth from her and wiping his face casually, he pointed to a small leather bag next to Qu Longjun's bed and told her to put the hot water in it and put it in her arms – this was a bag that he had specially stolen from outside when Qu Longjun had her period in November – Qu Longjun said, "I'm okay," while kneeling by the stove to fill the leather bag with water and put it in her clothes. Then, she also washed the cloth with hot water and wiped her cheeks to the side.

Distributing things, putting them away, continuing to burn the fire, cooking... The originally cold room had gradually warmed up. While cooking, Qu Longjun knelt by the bed, and because she thought the leather bag was in the way, she put it aside. Ning Ji looked at it, pursed his lips, and pointed to it. Qu Longjun stuck out her tongue and stuffed it in again. The fire flickered, and her face gradually didn't look so bad.

Soon after, the two ate dinner.

After dinner, Qu Longjun tidied up a bit, and in the firelight, she put on a needle and thread, took out Ning Ji's torn clothes, and sat there to sew. As a martial artist, Ning Ji moved a lot on weekdays. More than half a year after leaving the Southwest, and after experiencing the heavy snow that he had never experienced as a child, he realized that he wore out his clothes the most on weekdays. Recently, he was grateful to Qu Longjun for handling them for him time and time again.

Outside the room, the wind and snow howled, and occasionally, they would talk about this and that.

"Tomorrow is the Little New Year, and it's snowing so heavily," Qu Longjun said, sewing her clothes. "Why are they fighting in this weather? They'll freeze to death."

"Because it wasn't meant to be for fighting anyway, it's just to kill people..."

"...Hmm?"

"When the China Army fought in the Southwest, it was for victory or defeat, and the Jurchens fought for victory or defeat, but sometimes, when the granary was empty and there wasn't enough to eat, whether they fought or not, ten million people only had enough food for five million. In any case, at least five million people would die. Instead of starving to death at home, it's better to go out and fight to the death. Those who die have no complaints, and those who live at least have some food... Some people in the army used to say this in the Southwest. Only when I got here did I see it for the first time..."

Although he was only fifteen years old and quite playful, he was in the China Army and had contact with insightful senior officials. Many words were not understood at the time, but as he traveled and saw more complex things, some truths were gradually confirmed. At this time, the boy was leaning against the stove, talking about this, and his emotions were not high, but he had a sense of concern for the country and the people, which was very different from the temperament when he was with the real Little Bald Donkey.

"Earlier in Jiangning, He Wen talked a lot, saying that he wanted to take power and rectify things, but wasn't that also the reason? The Fair Party has been fighting, smashing and robbing in Jiangnan for two years, and the granaries and various savings in Jiangnan have been running out. If he really holds a conference and rectifies a group of fools, many people will still starve to death by the end of the year. Instead of being scolded at that time, it's better for everyone to make a clear statement and kill a bunch of people who can't be supported. He has more food in his hands, so he can pull all the elites who survive to his side... Originally, it was something he created, and if he can't clean it up, he might as well put the blame on others and let Xu Zhaonan, Shi Baofeng, and Zhou Shang take the blame and die. Hmph, he's too smart... They're all bad things..."

"My father was also a general who led troops, but I never heard him say these things..."

"My father..."

Ning Ji casually picked up, but then paused slightly, "...My father... used to sweep the floor in Mr. Ning's office in Heden."

"...Ah?" Qu Longjun blinked.

"So he wouldn't say these things, but the children in the China Army have to go to school, and there are many children in the army, so everyone talks about it, and they understand."

"Well, they all say that the China Army reformed the papermaking method, promoted science, and let all the children read and understand the truth. Even girls are treated equally. This is a great virtue of education... Mr. Ning is really amazing..."

"It's not all that. I think reading depends on the person. I can't learn it, and neither can my brother. I don't want to learn, and my brother wants to learn but can't learn well. In terms of reading and literacy, you might be more powerful than anyone I know."

In the three months of being together, the two didn't talk much, but in the occasional speculative chat, Qu Longjun could often quote classics and say those allusions vividly. In the conversation with the straight man, she could adjust the atmosphere. As a scumbag, Ning Ji had always been quite yearning for such a reader. If you go deeper, the fact that he was seduced by Yu Xiaoer in the Southwest was more or less because of the addition of the fact that the other party was a teacher.

Outside the snowy house, the snowstorm howled, and inside the room, the stove crackled. Qu Longjun mended her clothes and bit off the thread. Perhaps because the New Year was coming, the two said a lot of things in low voices one after another. Qu Longjun sat on the bed over there, hugging her knees – she often sat like this, sometimes burying her chin in her arms – her words were soft, and Ning Ji had already lay down on the bed over here.

Ning Ji talked about the liveliness of the China Army during the festivals, and also talked about the embarrassing things of having fun with a bunch of friends, and even talked about bombing the latrine and the experience of his latrine being bombed. After a while, seeing that Qu Longjun didn't mind, he slightly talked about the family's affairs.

"In my family... there are several concubines, there are older brothers and sisters-in-law, and there are younger brothers and sisters. This time out, several younger sisters will probably miss me, and the older brothers and sisters-in-law will also miss me, Dad and Mom..."

"Mom will cry..."

"My dad... I don't know if he will miss me. He shouldn't cry, but if something happens to me outside, he should also be very sad..."

"A heartless person is not necessarily a hero, and a husband can't help but love his children." When the two said this, I don't know what time it was that night, Qu Longjun listened to these, and the light in her eyes was complicated, "You are so good, they will definitely miss you."

Hearing this sentence "You are so good," Ning Ji's face heated up slightly, and then said, "...A heartless person is not necessarily a hero, lotus seed... what... um, your poem is good..."

"Isn't this a poem written by Mr. Ning..."

"Ah, Ning... My dad only sweeps the floor, he didn't teach this... You read a lot."

He glanced at Qu Longjun, not knowing what he was thinking. The girl's eyes lowered slightly, and she leaned back slightly, hugging her knees. Some complicated eyes hid in the darkness.

The room was quiet for a moment.

Then there was a continued silence.

Ning Ji wanted to find some topics naturally, but he didn't find them for a while.

Just when the silence seemed to be continuing all the time, he heard Qu Longjun open his mouth on the other side.

"L-Little Long Brother..."

"...Hmm?"

The other party's words were also as calm as possible, but in the details, there was a slight tremor:

"...Y-you came out of the Southwest, do you have any tasks?"

"Uh..."

"I know you might not be able to say it, but..."

……

"But... if the snow melts next spring, can you... can you..."

……

"Can you..."

……

"...Take me with you?"

……

The sound of the wind and snow seemed to be getting louder, blowing in the ears, and in the stove, the warm yellow fire flickered over the bodies and cheeks of the two, Ning Ji opened his mouth, his voice stuck.

"That, uh... cough, it's... there is a task... um..."

He paused and looked over there.

"It's okay."

The meaning of this sentence was not clear, but because of the firmness of the tone, the girl seemed to understand, and her body relaxed. She sat there, straightening her legs.

This action was very beautiful, Ning Ji moved his eyes away, his heart thumping, and his emotions relaxed.

In the warm snowy night, the two then talked a lot of nonsense in this relaxed mood. The girl talked about the things in the book, and told him stories, and then told him about Wen Shoubin forcing her to read, play the piano, and dance, as if she was explaining the origin of these skills to him.

Ning Ji was not stupid, and could hear the meaning in her words at this time, and could also hear the caution in her tone. She learned her father's poems. Although Wen Shoubin and others had impure intentions back then, at this moment, the grass had grown on Wen Shoubin's grave, and even the grass in Jiangnan was almost burned out, so what did these things matter?

What's more, he doesn't want to go back to the Southwest at all now. Yu Xiaoer hasn't killed, the slander of "five-foot lustful demon" hasn't been washed away into "the best in the world", and it's too embarrassing to go back and be beaten. It's inevitable to be laughed at when meeting Qin Weiwen.

After a while, when Qu Longjun asked him about his future direction again, he thought carefully and made a decision.

"I want to go to Fuzhou first."

He said.

"To see what the little emperor and the little princess... look like."

After the Fair Party's chaos, Jiangnan started cannibalism, the little monk went to Jin, and Zou Xu and Liu Guangshi were fighting their brains out in the Central Plains. The only peaceful place nearby was Fuzhou, and Yu Xiaoer might have gone there as well.

Moreover, it's good to go to a peaceful place to settle the "Little Bitch" who is following him – or it's not good to call her a Little Bitch now, so what should I call her? Little Bitch Dragon? – after all, his martial arts are not invincible, and it's better not to take too many risks if there is someone with him.

He thought about it, and he didn't like to take risks so much. Now that he has a Little Bitch, and a Little "Bald Donkey" that can carry things, when spring comes, he can bring pots and pans, and bring two more baggage, which is no different from a spring outing.

Go see the sea, so happy...

The fire in the stove gradually became smaller, blocking the partition, but it still emitted heat. Ning Ji mumbled about his plans, talking about the legendary sea, and fell asleep in a daze...

(End of this chapter)